


This Is What Will Kill Me (You Are What Will Kill Me)

by cubile



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Book 1: The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson), F/M, Gen, Minor Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24139207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cubile/pseuds/cubile
Summary: A collection of moments in Percy's life, before the war......Or: Percy met Luke and Thalia when he was seven years old. Annabeth has been on her own for almost longer than she's been anywhere else. Percy has been training for the Great Prophecy ever since he stumbled over the property line and watched the only protector he's ever known turn into a pine tree. Annabeth taught herself everything she knows - literally, everything, in libraries between monsters trying to kill her every few days. Percy is ready to test out his monster fighting skills in the real world, and with Zeus' lightning bolt missing, this is his first chance to go back into the mortal world at last. Annabeth has just found safety, but she's also just found friendship, and she knows which one is worth risking the other for.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	This Is What Will Kill Me (You Are What Will Kill Me)

**Author's Note:**

> this will probably have multiple chapters. i know i set up the description to have multiple chapters. writing happens rarely in this household. but if you like it, leave a kudos or comment and i'll make my brain write more things. i do have a plan for this, if you're concerned about that. anyway, enjoy :)
> 
> not betaed and written in like two hours

Annabeth Chase killed monsters for a living -- that is, she killed them so they wouldn’t kill her first. It had been that way for five years, as she tricked and stole and fled from state to state, never staying long in each. Small towns were no good for hiding a runaway preteen who didn’t exactly stay under the radar and big cities always seemed to come hand in hand with big monsters and a lot of them. She shuddered just thinking about the last time she had stopped in Baltimore, just a few weeks ago, and had gotten into a fight with two cyclopes which had accidently ruined several shops in the process. But that was nothing compared to this.

She ran harder, her lungs gasping for air in the muggy summer weather. Behind her, the satyr, Grover, bleated in panic and yelled, “Run faster.” She ignored him, arms pumping at her side and blood pounding in her ears,  _ steady, steady _ . She's guessing the reminder wasn’t for her anyway, her mind inadvertently drawing up an image of Drew, the 11 year old Grover had been escorting to this “Camp Half-Blood” before he had run into her just outside Manhattan. She grit her teeth.  _ Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving _ . She had learned the hard way slowing down for anyone else’s sake just got her injured, along with them dead. Better she be uninjured if she was going to lose the person watching her back for that week, that month, that day. Her feet pounded on the grassy hill, eyes fixed on the top where a pine tree was planted in a spot of honor. That’s where the boundary line was. That was safety, finally.

She unclenched her jaw, a small breath shuddering it’s way out of her. Her eyes burned. She didn’t give in to the temptation of letting them spill over as she halted in her tracks, spinning in the same move and unsheathing a knife, 16 inches long and gleaming bronze. She had taken good care of it in the years since she found it, bloodstained and chipped in the upper eaves of a church. Still, it wasn’t in the best condition, but she had to hope it would get her through one last fight.

Her instincts turned on a dime, mind shifting from  _ flight  _ mode to  _ fight  _ mode. She took in the scene she had been fleeing at the head of. Grover was sprinting as fast as his goat legs would take him, clinging to the small girl he was tasked with protecting. Only a few dozen feet behind him, a chimera was gaining ground.

The chimera from the tales Annabeth had read, crouched in a corner of the nearest public library and panting from running from away nightmares made flesh, was made of three beasts. A lion for a head, the front of a goat growing out of its midsection, and a snake for a tail. For whatever reason, it could also breathe fire. Facts flashed through her mind as quick as the heartbeat in her ears.

She took one breath in, one out. Around her, the world seemed to slow, like it usually did when she went into battle. This time though, she wouldn’t make it out. She could feel it in her bones, in her burning lungs, pumping veins. She couldn’t win this. Not with the several inches long slice she had taken to the ribs minutes before they found her, and the monster gaining ground.

But she could save Grover. She could save the 11 year old girl who had launched question after question at Annabeth on the way there. Who had looked at Annabeth like she was a hero, despite her being only a year older and utterly undeserving of the title. Annabeth could be a hero for real this time, even if it was the only time.

“What are you doing?” Grover bellowed. He made to grab at her as he continued toward the top of the hill, but she sidestepped easily.

“Get her to safety. I’ve got this.”

There was no time to argue and Grover didn’t even pause to try. The chimera was only 30 feet from them now. It would be on her in a few strides. Her legs burned, her wound ached, and there was no time.

It was almost on her when she deftly rolled to the side, striking out with her knife as she did in a desperate bid to get its attention off Grover and on her. It worked, the horrible heads of the beast snarling and hissing and gnashing their heads in equal measure. It’s momentum carried it several lengths away from her. For one heart stopping moment she thought she had failed, and it would continue bearing down on its moving prey. But then it whirled and opened its mouth to roar at her. She barely processed the thought before the action,  _ move _ , as it released a stream of fire right at where she had been standing.

_ Right _ , she thought. She could remember reading somewhere that the chimera of old could breathe fire. Now if only she could remember how to kill it. She thought it might have something to do with staying out of reach, but… she had a knife and no clever plan to get her out of close combat.

Annabeth was several feet out of the line of fire and closer to the beast now. It crouched low, as predatory as an actual lion would be and circled. She could see where she had caught it by surprise with her knife, a bleeding wound several inches long but not very deep from what she could see. The sight still invigorated her. She had left a mark on this otherworldly creature. She could harm it; she could kill it. It was wary of her now because of that.

That also meant it wouldn’t risk rushing her, a fact she discerned a second before it’s pink maw opened again and spewed fire in her direction. She was too fast for it, again, but with no clever ideas, she was forced to give ground to it as she dodged nimbly backward.  _ A minute _ , she prayed, not knowing who she was praying to.  _ Just keep your eyes on me for one more minute _ . She brandished her knife in its direction, feinting at going on the offensive. It’s snake tail hissed threateningly at her.

Just past it’s hulking form she could see Grover crest the hill practically dragging Drew with him. The girl was struggling against him even as she disappeared from Annabeth’s line of sight.

Her shoulders slumped slightly. She didn’t have to be a distraction anymore. She could try to fight her way past the monster to the hill, to safety for the first time in half a decade. She could turn tail and flee, hope for a miracle that would give her a chance of getting out alive. Either way was certain death.

She was never one to run from a fight anyway.

With no other clever plans in sight, she charged the beast.

The only thing that kept her alive was it’s sure surprise. No twelve year old in their right mind would go head to head with a monster twice their size armed with only a knife. It was crouched, ready to leap towards her as she moved. In a second she was right in front of those dangerous jaws; the next, she had planted her foot on it’s huge head and was driving her knife straight through the underside of the goat’s jaw. She flew through the air, landing badly at the base of a tree, the wind knocked firmly out of her and her head spinning. She knew there was no getting up. From the snarling behind her, her trick hadn’t worked either, which meant she was dying here.

She coughed and instantly regretted it. Her side was still burning from the fight she had been in only hours ago and now she had definite bruising, if not broken ribs to add to the pile. The pain only made her cough and gasp harder, and she scrambled to find a handhold to brace herself on to help move her to a sitting position. She could at least try to meet her fate bravely. She wished for her knife, to die with a weapon in her hand. Feebly, she clutched at one of the rocks she had used to lever herself upright. Better than nothing.

In front of her, the chimera stalked closer. She could barely make out its form in the kaleidoscope her vision had become. The world wheeled around her, but she squinted through the pain. The goat head was hanging limply, blood trickling down the handle of her blade, which was shoved through its head to the hilt. A smile came unbidden to her face and it grew. She could greet death with a smile she thought. After all, it had been stalking at her heels for years now.

It was only feet away now, the lion hungrily licking its lips. She didn’t have the strength to lift her rock as it once more opened its chops and prepared to roast her into a tasty Annabeth sausage.

“Hey, ugly,” a male voice called from further up the hill, she thought. Direction was meaningless to her fuzzy head right now. She couldn’t even take her eyes off the monster to check, even as it’s head whipped away, the goat flopping on its back with the motion.

“Yeah, that’s it. C’mon, I know I look more tasty than  _ her _ .” Annabeth still had the grace of mind to feel a prickle of annoyance at that. “But I doubt you could catch me. You’re not looking too hot at the moment, kitty.”

She got the feeling he was toying with it, luring it away from her. It was working too, the beast had turned its backside to her; the notable downside of this being that it brought the snake tail almost within striking distance and she couldn’t even summon the energy to inch further away. Its reptilian eyes watched her as the lion stalked closer to her temporary rescuer.

The challenger approached out of the side of her vision. A boy, about the same age as her. He wore shorts and an orange t-shirt. In his right hand was a sword, three feet long and faintly glowing in the midday light. He twirled it experimentally, not even seeming worried that he was facing down a creature that would make most grown adults run for their lives. Annabeth was worried enough for the both of them.

Her lungs couldn’t get enough air for her to yell out a warning, and the last thing she wanted was the chimera’s attention back on her. Not that having it focused on whoever this was was any better. She scrambled for a plan, but her head wouldn’t cooperate. Her grasp on consciousness was weak at best, and rapidly fading even as she fought it.

The chimera crossed some invisible line about ten feet from her prone body, or that’s what it seemed like. Suddenly the boy rushed it, nothing cavalier about his body language anymore. It was ready for it though, having learned from Annabeth. It didn’t hesitate to open its mouth, fire rumbling up from it’s insides. She was going to have to watch as this boy was incinerated.

He dodged, barely out of the stream of white hot fire, and kept coming. His sword was a blur in his hands as he battled it close range. Inside its ability to spray fire, she realized. She was in awe as he pressed it back, purposely away from her. He was going to win, she thought, vision going black at the sides.

And then the chimera got in a lucky hit, right to his sword arm. It flew away, down the hill at least ten paces. It was over. He was disarmed, and the chimera was pissed. Its jaw was flecked with saliva and its sides heaved, covered in sweat and blood from the various blows the boy had managed to get in.

He cradled his sword arm to his chest, having moved to put a few feet of distance between himself and the monster as soon as his fighting arm was broken. He stared at the beast, panting. “Fine,” he said, “Be that way.”

Annabeth would never forget that moment, as long as she lived. One arm bloody and broken, the rest of his tan skin unblemished. A sea wind swept through the small valley, ruffling his shaggy hair and parting it from his face. Sea green eyes looked out from above a mischievous grin, as if he knew something the monster didn’t. He raised his unbroken arm, and the sea came to their battleground.

It was actually water pulled from the ground, which Annabeth could deduce even through the pain in her head, and her body, everywhere. The smell of the sea came from him, as far as she could tell. He gathered the water around him, creating a mini cyclone, at which he was the center. The chimera opened its mouth to roar again, or, more likely spew fire in every direction. It was the last thing it did.

The boy lashed out, faster than her eyes could keep up with, a water whip of sorts flung out before him. It hit the beast right in the back of the throat and went through to the other side. It disintegrated before her eyes.

She stared at the spot where it just stood, all thoughts leaving her mind at once. A face appeared in her tunnel vision, and those thoughts came rushing back tenfold.

She had the presence of mind to say, “Thanks waterboy,” before passing out.


End file.
